instead his shoulders were squared.
I gritted my teeth. âWhat is it, Kev? Did Daz tell everybody about Grandpa? Because he totally promised he wouldnâtâhe canât do this to me all the time,â I sputtered. I could feel the back of my throat begin to ache.
Kevin shook his head. âNo, itâs not that. He didnât say anything. I promise. Itâs onlyâ¦â He peeked behind him, and it was only then that I noticed something on the walls. A poster.
My jaw dropped as the crowd around me began to laugh. I shoved Kevin out of the way, despite his protests not to go to my locker. I didnât need to: every locker within fifty feet of mine was plastered with a photocopied poster.
Of my butt.
I gripped my backpack straps hard as I felt the tips of my fingers tingle. It wasnât just my butt. It was Sugar and I, standing at the front desk of that fancy hotel. I wouldnât stand a chance next to Sugar at the best of times, but this was so much worse. There was a huge, revolting stain on the back of my shorts. My breath squeezed out of me as I inspected the picture. Whoever had done the photocopying had the courtesy to circle my rear with a thick, black Sharpie. I knew that stain was nothing but dirt from the zoo, but in the picture it looked ridiculously terrible.
Underneath was the caption âShep Fosterâs granddaughter bonds with his supermodel-actress girlfriend.â Above the picture, someone had scrawled in huge block letters âLOOKS LIKE SCALES HAD AN ACCIDENT.â
A weak cry escaped my throat, but I couldnât form any words.
Kevin reached over to steady me. âI was trying to get them all down before you came in. This was the last bank of lockersâ¦â he mumbled. I noticed his back pocket was stuffed full of crumpled-up posters.
I wanted to kick every locker I could see. The edges of my vision actually began to blur red, like I was some sort of vampire on a rampage. If only I had that kind of strength, I could freak every last one of them out.
âThere were more of them?!â I seethed.
Kevin sighed but gave a nod, pulling the stack from his back pocket. âOnly a few.â
I didnât even have to pretend to think about who had done this. The Sneerers plastered my butt with its totally understandable stain all over school.
I shouldnât be surprised, really. But that didnât make the burning in my chest go away.
I needed Liv. She would have the perfect retaliation for them. She would smirk and wave her magic Liv wand and act like none of this mattered, and weâd laugh the whole thing off over a plate of curly fries.
But she was gone, exploring her new home . Grandpa had been in town for less than a week and already I was literally the poster child for being a loser. And I had no one.
Ignore them. Just ignore them.
I inspected myself in the spotted bathroom mirror one more time and chanted a mantra to get me through the afternoon. I couldnât miss Ms. Fentonâs class. I was going to hand in my project no matter what was plastered all over the school.
I splashed cold water on my face one final time. My eyes looked almost back to normal, and my nose wasnât red and runny anymore. I could do this.
I stepped out of the bathroom, heading straight for my locker. The world felt different now that everyone knew I was related to Shep Foster. Like the spotlight that was normally shined on him now swung over to me, blinding me with burning light. Ms. Fentonâs classroom hushed the minute I walked in. Everyone turned to stare at me, and it seemed like the air was being sucked out of the room. I kept my eyes down and beelined for my bench, where Bella was now sitting.
She gave me a small smile.
Thankfully, Ms. Fenton spoke up. âAll right, my little turnips! Time to hand in your True Selves projects! Iâm giving you a free period for the rest of the hour to catch up on any work you might have missed
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